Rodaan ended up being a foreign diplomat from Teferet, the “Kingdom of Long Rivers”. Given the wealth on display, Rodaan was likely a very wealthy man, if the fully staffed manor in the richest part of a foreign capitol wasn’t obvious enough. He was also, as it turned out, a human.

  ‘So don’t anger him. Got it.’ Marc thought to himself.

  The man himself was well kept, wearing multiple layers of close-fitting robes dyed a rich blue. Underneath was polished copper jewelry inlaid with rubies and sapphires. He sat in a large study lit and heated (a bit too warmly for Marc’s taste) by a roaring fireplace. A number of servants accompanied the adventurers, and opened doors as they entered. He looked up as they entered, unamused until recognizing the veteran slayer. He broke into a smile that met his eyes.

  “Ah! Berk, it is nice to see you again.” The nobleman said, putting the book onto a side table and turning to face them.

  Rham spoke up then, “Sir, this is Marc, an adventurer whom Mr. Berk. trusts. He will be assisting on the task.” Marc nodded, unsure of how to respond or otherwise address him.

  “Welp, Rodaan, I’d love to catch up and talk ‘bout ol’ times, but we got a job to do.”

  “Of course! Listen to Berk’s words, young man. He’s made it far for a reason.” Rodaan said in a teacherly tone.

  Marc was about to respond when Berk and the servants began moving them out of the study, and Rodaan picked up his book. He nodded, unsure if the noble could see him, and was swept out, through a number of hallways and to a large, sturdy wooden door with a thick padlock.

  Rham pulled out a key and handed it to Berk. There was an odd, silent exchange between them that Marc couldn’t decode, but it passed soon enough.

  The door was unlocked, and into the basement they went.

  In search of Rats.

  “So, whatcha think of Rodaan?” Berk asked him. The outsider really didn’t have any opinion, besides the immediately evident.

  “He’s Rich.”

  “Aw, gotta give me more‘n that. Anythin’?”

  “I met him for all of, what, 1 minute? He’s a rich man from Teferet.”

  “Well, not wrong. Just think it through.” He said, before concentrating to cast a spell. From his eyes shone two large beams of light. He had become a human flashlight.

  The cellar itself was well kept, given the protection. There were a number of what looked like artifacts, but Marc was never much of a historian. These things could be invaluable or they could be dime-a-dozen.

  “I didn’t know you could use magic.”

  “Yep.” He said with an air of finality. Marc nodded, though Berk was turned away, and they continued to the end of the cellar. There were no rats to be seen, but a trapdoor provided them the way down. Berk opened the door, and gestured with his hand. “After you.”

  Marc looked down, saw a ladder leading down, and began climbing. It only took him about eight feet down, but they’d left the house for the tunnels.

  “Here’s where the rats’ll be. If you start feelin’ queasy, speak up cause that’s them.”

  “How far down are they usually?” He still didn’t see anything, even with Berk’s Eye-Lights. They were just stone-hewn tunnels, roughly carved.

  “Half hour’s walk is usually enough. That’s the reason they get me, don’t want to dirty their house guard’s fancy clothes.”

  “So they. . . pay more for an adventurer to go down than just clean it?”

  “You really like questionin’ why a wasp hasn’t stung you, huh?”

  “I just don’t understand what they get. It costs more, it doesn’t show status. . . So why?”

  “Think it through.” He said, and the two descended.

  The tunnels were dark but surprisingly dry. Marc was expecting dripping water, or pools of stagnant mud, but if there was any water in the system it was further down. Thankfully his boon gave him enough stability on this technically natural terrain to walk close to full speed. Berk could as well, though Marc didn’t know why.

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  Hell, the veteran didn’t even have a weapon in hand. Marc was about to ask him a question, before pausing. He’d just be told to think it through anyways.

  Why would they hire Berk? Rich people, or really anyone, would only hire an adventurer for a few reasons he could think of. If it was neither cheaper to hire him, nor a status move, what other reason would there be? He puzzled over it more. In the near-silence, the two went further and further down. There was an odd sense of expectation, like the seconds before a jumpscare in a horror movie.

  Then, the tickle on the back of his throat started. It was barely noticeable at first, but grew in intensity. He knew this feeling, always an omen of an oncoming sickness in the past.

  “Berk, I feel something.”

  “Damn, you are sturdy. They should be only a bit aways, I was worried we’d need to go even deeper.”

  There was a heat from the walls that made itself apparent to the touch now, though not quite as warm as Rodaan’s study. Given how many of his house guard were seemingly also from Teferet, the entire building was probably warmer, given it seemed to be some kind of fantasy-egypt. Then, it clicked.

  “Trust” Marc said, catching Berk’s attention.

  “Hm?”

  “I - Are there ever more than rats?”

  “Not often.”

  “But sometimes.” Marc replied with some certainty. Berk nodded without turning back to face him,, the light flashing over unmarked rock. “If their house guard dies, they need to find someone they can trust. They only need to trust you to complete one job.”

  Berk didn’t say anything, but turned to the side and gave Marc the first genuine smile he’d seen on the man’s face since. . . well, since they’d first met.

  They continued in silence, and Marc began thinking out his other questions. Berk could cast magic, maybe he could do something like Fray and summon a weapon? What did he mean by -

  The heard movement. Like dog’s nails on concrete, they echoed quietly though the stone tunnels. Marc pulled his axe off his back, while Berk reached out to the stone wall and pulled out a pair of sabers, still made of stone. He then began chanting another spell, and Marc moved in front of him, widening his stance as Fray had taught him. The light from Berk’s eyes hovered out, following him on its own. The stepped forward quietly.

  Each time they rounded a corner, their eyes racing to find the source of the noises getting closer.

  Finally, they saw it. A rat. The size of a chihuahua.

  Marc was almost disappointed it wasn’t larger, before remembering the ferocity of the Dire squirrel he’d fought only a few days prior. The monster, if it could be called that, seemed utterly unfazed by their arrival, and kept scurrying around.

  Marc turned a bit, asking, “Aren’t they. . . supposed to be dangerous?”

  “Huh. This one isn’t part of the king yet.”

  “King?”

  A mass of rats with their tails knotted tightly together rounded a far corner, eyes glowing red, and charged towards them.

  Marc prepared a charge, but Berk was faster, rocketing from his position with the sabers stretched out. Marc followed behind, passing the “normal” sized rat which seemed just as startled by the amalgam as they were.

  Berk got the first strike in, a cut from his left hand weapon. Marc couldnt see if the strike hit anything important, as his own weapon followed after. The Rat King was large enough, close to the size of the spider, that both could swing their weapons against it without interfering with each other.

  His first hit split a rat in two, with a gurgling noise as he withdrew the weapon. Berk called in a low tone, “Don’t hit the tails!” as he jammed his swords into two separate rats, puncturing through a number of others.

  Marc swung again and again, his clothes getting scratched and bit, but thankfully nothing really getting through to his skin. Berk was holding up fairly similarly, now with a long stone spear in hand. This was going very well, as far as Marc was concerned.

  Then, their light flickered out.

  Marc had no way of seeing, and presumably Berk didn’t either. Marc stood in place, knowing that even if he swung wildly he couldn’t hit Berk unless they both moved. The slayer swords up and down, but Marc heard no footsteps over the thrashing rats.

  He felt their claws or fangs or whatever they were using finally begin to puncture his flesh, and used Estrange without thinking. There was a dull blue light glowing over the Rat King as it was sent sailing through the air with immense force, into a wall no more than ten feet away. Hitting with a crash and the sound of crunching bones, the Rat King was more damaged by Estrange than anything else Marc had done. Meanwhile a Tablet appeared.

  ESTRANGE Special Ability used

  All damage from incoming attack negated.

  Estrange cannot be used again for 1 minute

  Special ability cannot be used again for 1 day

  The tablet seemed to glow in the dark, but shed no light of its own.

  Berk cast his spell again, and the light reappeared. The Rat King was more dead than alive at this point, and it didn’t take much for the duo to finish them off. Even the ones that weren’t dead were injured, and any scratches or bites couldn’t get through Marc’s clothes.

  Berk, meanwhile, was looking over his shoulder. Something had spooked him, and he was clearly paranoid about it.

  “Well, job well done?” Marc asked the older man.

  “More rats to come. That won’t be the only king, just the weakest.”

  “That why you’re looking over your shoulder?”

  “No. Don’t worry ‘bout that.”

  Marc, unconvinced, followed Berk further underneath the city.